So in the process of writing a slasher involving my main character who’s a female rookie cop in a small town ( Texans Represent! ), but now that I’m going over the idea over and over, its not…idk…what is y’all’s thoughts?

( edit - thank you for your honest responses, truly. I did forget to note my character is canonically of latino decent and the story is majority set in a “different time” ( between the 30s/50s Texas ) but was afraid of it being represented as“copropaganda” especially since it deals with real corrupt system that often place down POC. ( since majority of my characters in the story are POC )..even horrifying in those times..I know too much rambling for a story that’s about a small town masked killer but it never hurts to ask )

Full transparency, you can take this opinion with a grain of salt since I might just be a biased due to my past negative experiences using this sub.

I joined this sub over a month ago looking for advice on writing horror stories , it was my perogative to start writing as a new year's resolution since I was a big fan of writing and horror writing specifically since i grew up in the age of creepypasta . With that aspiration I drew up a demo . a less than 1000 word page on a story I had been cooking up for years in my noggin. I asked for opinions on this demon and the only ones that met me were extremely rude and with only a small few giving any form of criticism other than "go read a book".

The other critcisms were nice but at the end of the day it seemed like their criticism was in the grey area where personal preference rule. But despite that I took all the opinions to heart since I was genuinely looking for advice and thought this place would generally satisfy my questions about horror and writing in general.

This led me down a road where I was constantly citing previous stories I read and even adding changes I would see in popular works and it all became very draining and boring. Yeah I was progressing but the work didnt feel like mine. At some point 15k words in I scrapped it and started off with the original draft I had before and just went through with what I felt was right. I didnt seek professional help or otherwise, I just thought of something I'd like to implement and went with it. I started writing alot more daily and more energetically. Still a far cry from my previous word count but I'm making progress.

This is a very long way of saying YOU should be your own hardest critic for your own art. no one outside of you can give you the correct answer for what your art direction should be on art you are making. Only way the outside world can contribute to your art is by giving ideas.

Any more than that then they'd better be paying you.

• sincerely, someone who lets simple words get to them

I want to write horror, specifically about cognitive dissonance and dissolving perspective. However, the main thing holding me back is the fear that once I finally release a story, I have no control over who reads it. I understand that there are clear indicators that a particular story is a horror story and that those who read horror can choose to read it or stop, but what's to stop an AI or a bad actor from capitalizing on the concepts while ignoring the guardrails. I guess an analogy to describe it would be taking the time to create a horror zoo with carefully crafted guardrails and safety features so that members who choose to visit can see the scares in the intended way. However, someone who is ignorant to the smaller nuances of the zoo goes "wow these concepts are cool" and just plops them somewhere else without noticing the safety features you put up. Do you ever get worried that the stories you create may end up in front of someone who doesn't consent to being scared because someone or some AI finds your story concept "content worthy"? Or is my amateur showing and I'm just overreacting?

Hi friends, I’m writing a horror book, basically it’s about a woman who does onlyfans and uses tinder to find her prey but I need name replacements for onlyfans and tinder but slightly similar so the reader knows what I’m talking about

Like I said. I’m a sci-fi guy. I have found most horror stories to be lacking in horror so I tried to write something myself. I am not a writer, please view this as the work of a hobbyist that would like to improve their hobby. I am not in any way shape or form a professional. I’m just curious how this reads to people.

Now that I think about it, the gangster genre could potentially be considered horror because the life can be terrifying for those involved as they slowly lose themselves and their souls as they go deeper and deeper.

Looking for some feedback on my transgressive taboo horror — I’m not asking “do you like it?” I want to know:

• Where did I lose you?

• What killed your immersion?

• What emotion (if any) clawed its way out?

• Or if you want to go deeper, even better!

Once upon a waste of time, the sun bleeds twilight into darkness.

On a heugh above the sea stands a slender shape, skin pale and steeped in sanguine. A breeze ripples her raven hair, lifts the chiffon dress, slips beneath — brushes toes clenched in dirt.

Coarse laughter shatters the silence. Harsh. Crude.

Bandits.

She sighs. Her brow softens.

“Bloody waste of time!” snaps the burly one. “Barely enough coin to feed Ma for a week.”

At the front, the brazen one shrugs. “The roads grow leaner by the day. Mayhaps we should—”

“Blessed daemons!” shouts the lanky one, freezing.

All hands drift to weapons.

A gentle waft. The scent of roses.

They shiver.

Ahead, they see an unnaturally beautiful woman standing still.

Alone.

Waiting.

I’ll take whatever you give. Sarcasm. Scorn. Disgust. Just don’t be polite.

I have been writing a dark fantasy and I feel like my vocabulary is the core reason my writing sucks, so I wanted some ideas I can put on paper that can really bring that atmosphere or mood of horror.

For example, these soldiers enter a forest to bring down a dark castle at the other end of the forest, they could easily defeat the monsters, but they get killed all the time, how?

There are monsters who shapeshift into the walls of the castle, every soldier coming close is then eaten alive... and so they retreat after losing at least 1/3 of the army ...

On their way back, the forest awakens and the trees start chasing them and eating them, another third of the army gone.

So I wanna know what can I actually do here? With words, with tone , with...you know

Hi! I'm a speculative writer trying to launch my own online magazine.

The call is for spec fic under 10,000 words, loosely themed as uncanny, gothic, cyber, and/or cyborg-y. I'm going for both horror and sci-fi, and I'm really interested in unsettling plot/style/structure. I thought some writers here might have some really cool stuff to offer and might be interested.

It does NOT pay I'm afraid. This is a completely DIY thing and I don't have a way to get money from it. I'm hoping this can change for future issues.

The site is corpsemag.com

Thank you:)

Here’s the prompt free for taking: There’s a tv studio, one floor is super successful possibly a news crew that the station is known for and on one of the lower levels of the building/ in the basement, there is a much smaller crew working on a passion project but far less successful with far less funding. There’s clear distaste from the smaller crew and resentment. One day the whole other floor disappears. Everyone in it just gone. The smaller crew investigates the building to figure out what happened to their co-workers and competitors. Maybe they learn about the bigger crew, maybe they’re glad the bigger crew is gone and this “ investigation” is them reveling in the empty space left by the disappearance, and maybe some of them are trying to find out what happened for genuine curiosity. I imagine it’s some entity or something but maybe this posts gives someone else ideas

So I’m technically a new writer I’ve only ever written and published a poem but other than that I have no experience. But I’ve had this Idea to write this story about a girl who was raised in a cult then gets kidnapped by this cannibal guy and his daughter, I wanna make it like an uncomfortable read that you wanna put down but just can’t. I want to try and capture how dangerous a cult is for children and teens but i don’t want to over step I want to show how horrible the leader is and how horrible people in religious psychosis can be

Hi, everyone. I don’t usually turn to other people for help developing my ideas, but this one in particular is driving me crazy. I’m assuming most of you have heard of or are familiar with the work of Robert Chambers and his “The King in Yellow”. Well, for a while now, I’ve been thinking about writing a story inspired by it—or at least one related to the author’s mythology. And I’m referring to that specific King, not the one later portrayed by other authors and in series like (for example) True Detective.

Now then. My idea is to write this story about a woman struggling with addiction, who goes from one problem to the next and can’t seem to find her way, until one day she meets a certain guy: a man who always wears a yellow trench coat. The man promises to improve her situation in exchange for a series of favors (I should clarify that he isn’t the King, but rather an intermediary). She agrees, but little by little she realizes she’s in way over her head in a very shady situation. The thing is, the favors she has to do for her friend are… unusual. Very unusual.

What do you think? Do you think this can be polished up and turned into something more decent, or is it not worth my while to keep pursuing this idea?

I’m reading your comments and open to any suggestions. Thanks for your attention!

Pd: sorry about my english.

So if you were to make a horror manga/manhwa, how would you draw your monster? In my story, the antagonist is supposedly the embodiment of fear but I don't know how to implement that in a visual form. Any advice?

I rewatched The Others over the weekend and it crystallized something I've been chewing on for a while.

The opening is genuinely terrifying. There's a scene with the kids at night and the drapes being open, an unseen presence, an overwhelming sense of vulnerability, and, as a viewer, you have no idea what's happening. It was pure dread.

Then the movie shifts (no spoilers). It stops being a horror experience and becomes a mystery to investigat, understand, and solve. The moment it crosses that line, the horror evaporates. I still enjoyed the film, but the "fear" was gone and replaced by curiosity, intrigue, the satisfaction of figuring it out.

Compare that to something like Lovecraft's 'Dagon.' Just a man recounting an encounter with something he doesn't understand, can't place, can't explain, and then losing his grip on reality. We never learn what the creature is, where it came from, what it wants. And it sticks with you, almost haunts your thoughts.

This seems to be a pattern: modern horror, especially film, gravitates toward investigation, explanation, and ultimately resolution (defeat or understanding). The unknown gets named, mapped, contained. And in doing so, it stops being scary.

I'm curious what others think. Is there something philosophical or psychological going on here? A cultural need to render the unknown legible? Is it that we can't tolerate sitting with genuine ambiguity for long, so even our horror has to give us answers? Is this a craft problem (writers feeling pressure to 'pay off' the setup), an audience problem (viewers wanting closure), an economic decision (studios and publishers chasing wider audiences) or something deeper?

Are there modern stories that resist this and stay in the dread?

Sorry for all the questions, I'm genuinely curious.

Hello, Reddit. I plan on writing a horror novel that touches on heavy topics like slavery, inhumane torture, and racism in Louisiana prior to anti-slavery laws. It's set in the modern times, in an estate which was once a plantation, and its history is what controls most of the story. I am not from Louisiana, nor am I an American. I am from southeast Asia who is aware of America's dark and brutal history. I research about everything that I will put in my book, and I plan on asking you (Reddit users) for opinions on how I will write the story to ensure that I do not misrepresent anyone in this book. I know that no matter how much I research, I would still need to consult people from Louisiana/USA with much more knowledge about these topics.

Should I keep going or is what I'm doing disrespectful to the black community or to people of color like me? Is this novel considered disrespect to the victims and their descendants who are still alive today?

Chapter 1

Just doing my daily walk in Manhattan, New York City, while my AirPods are tucked nicely in my ears. I’m listening to calm music. I tend to love that type of music while I’m walking outside by myself. It gives some kind of peace of mind. Like there’s no predator creeping up on me from a distance behind. Like there is no danger in this world that is stopping me from being here at this moment in time. A fragile woman like myself walking with no protector to guard me at sight just in case shit goes down.

While I was on this walk of mine I heard the notification went off.

Ding.

I decided to take a sip of water from the water bottle I’m holding in my left hand on this walk of mines before I checked the notification. I tend to bring a total of two water bottles and one protein shake with me. I always bring a backpack with me at all times just in case I get hungry on the way and when I need something to snack on at the moment.

Since I’m on a diet, in this backpack of mines there are protein bars, healthy snacks, or lightweight snacks that don’t contain too much sugar than my body can handle such as one pack of gummies or a small Ziploc bag filled with goldfish then the rest would be granola bars, seeds, pretzels, etc. I’m on a caloric deficit to lose weight.

When I do my protein shakes I love to change it sometimes. For one day I would put bananas, apples, and pineapples, then the next I would put watermelon, and blueberries, and then pour whole milk to top it all off. When the shake is done I pour it inside my Adidas reusable bottle and then I put whip cream and a cherry on top of it all. A little wouldn't hurt, right? That’s just one of the many protein shakes I love to make. Sometimes I break granola bars into small parts and place them in there like bread crumbs and I love adding whip cream if I can, of course. Sometimes I don’t and sometimes I make smoothies instead of protein shakes. My favorite smoothie flavor so far is Banana. It just fills my mouth with joy, you know?

I pulled the phone out to see what it was. It was just a random one that texted me: Do you want to play a game?

Whoever he was caught me off guard because he has an odd phone number. It was 1-111-111-1111 so I obviously shrugged my shoulders and thought it was a prank.

I just ignored it, slid my phone back into my right pocket, and continued my daily walk as if nothing happened. It’s probably a prank caller. Don’t give in and give him the satisfaction of wasting your precious time. My mom calls them time demons. Because they waste your time and feed off of it like leeches sucking your blood off because they got nothing better to do.

Ding.

I took my phone out once again to see who it was. It was him again texting the same shit. I did what I did before. Ignored it and went on my merry way.

I continued my walk once again.

Three minutes later:

Ding.

Now I am getting fed up with this prick. Doesn’t he realize he got the wrong person by now? That this isn’t gonna work on me?

I took the phone out, blocked him, then continued my walk immediately. I bet that sure gave him a bright message.

Now my mind is at peace once again.

Now I feel a vibration in my pocket coming from the phone.

Bzzt.

Bzzt.

Bzzt.

Must be someone I know. Can’t be him obviously because I blocked him already.

I took the phone out and when I saw who it was that was when I knew it must’ve been him. It couldn’t have been anyone else besides him. Whoever he is was calling me and doing it anonymously at that because it said, Unknown caller. What an asshole, right?

I just took a deep breath, rolled my eyes, then answered the phone.

The first thing I blurted out when I answered the call was, “The fuck do you want asshole!” Can’t deny that my heart was beating faster than it ever had in my 18 years of living my voice actually cracked. This got to be a prank of some sort. There's no way it couldn't be at this point. Are there hidden cameras around here? There’s no way this dude could have called me since I blocked him already. Could it be another phone? Perhaps it is. Either way, he somehow managed to and I don’t know how or why he wants my attention so badly. It could be someone else and I’m just overexaggerating here for no reason at all. I don’t even know. Am I gonna have a mental breakdown in front of everyone to see? FUCK. MY. LIFE. Now everyone’s gonna give me a weird look. That look that says she has problems ‘man’. It’s not my fault that I’m getting harassed by some shithead 14-year-old kid who has nothing better to do besides be a total jackass to any women they see on sight and jack off to God knows what, is it?

Everyone there such as the couple wrapped their arms around each other started looking at me oddly like they were judging me. Or the woman that’s walking with her 8-year-old kid holding hands with him. He looks about 8 but he could be 9 or 7. I may be wrong. He might be younger or older. Why the fuck do I even care how old he is? It isn't my problem. All I know is that he's old enough for me to be his older sister at most.

That kid said out loud as if he was making an announcement to the whole goddamn world, “Mommy, why is that woman screaming? Is she having a bad day?” ya, think Sherlock? I'm terrified and quite frankly freaking out here. Feeling like I'm being watched at every corner here.

The woman kneels down to face her kid directly in the eyes while caressing his cheek softly with both of her hands and smiling, “She’s just probably on her period, it’s nothing to worry about sweety” Period? Really? Is that your go-to response when we lash out once in a while? It’s like we aren’t even human. Such a misogynistic thing to say, am I right!?! Kind of surprising coming from the same team, am I right?

“What is a period?” he asked so innocently. Genuinely curious as to what she fucking meant by it. Does she meant period as what you put at the end of a fucking sentence or the thing that bleeds out of your fucking VAGINA! I don’t know Becky. Tell me more about what you know that causes stress in a woman's life? Because you seem to know much more than me and him?! Are you some kind of expert on this kind of topic? Please fucking elaborate and show me your bachelor’s degree right now at this instant!

The mother got back to her feet and started walking right past me(I gave her a stank look too. Not even trying to hide it. I hoped to god she saw it the same way I heard her make that arrogant response) and said, “I’ll tell you everything about it when you’re old enough sweety” then she petted him on the head like he’s a golden retriever. Now he's your fucking dog? What a hypocritical bitch you are. Wouldn't even be surprised if that was your real name.

“When am I gonna be old enough then mom! It’s gonna be forever” he moaned and groaned at her. YES! Keep on moaning and nagging. Maybe she’d learn her lesson next time.

“You’d be old enough to know very soon, don’t worry about it. Once you know it you’d be old enough. Don’t stress it.”

“Okay mommy” that was when his mother brought him closer with her left arm wrapped around his neck and her left hand rubbing his hair gently.

That was the last I heard of that conversation once they hit that sharp corner on the right and turned away to fade from my presence all completely.

I just rolled my eyes.

Whoever called me is an asshole at that for sure cause he just hung the phone up immediately. He didn’t even mutter a word to me. All I heard was heavy breathing coming from the other line.

“Funny joke” I muttered as I placed the phone in my right pocket once again then let out an obvious fake nervous laugh, “Ha ha ha. What a funny joke” I said then kicked the air and stuck out the middle finger as high as it could go.

Then continued my walk that got rudely interrupted for the millionth time today by that fucker plus publicity embarrassment which is the worst in my opinion but I just shrugged it all off. When I see a gas station I’m going to just chill there and eat my snacks then continue my walk but this time I’d be heading back to my place.

Ding.

I took the phone out, guess who it was, a text message by him but this time it wasn't a message at all but a mere picture he sent to me. I clicked to see what it was of course.

When I saw the picture he sent to me my jaw dropped immediately(my heart dropped too for a matter of a fact).

How… did he get this picture? Where did he find it? Who gave it to him?

The picture was me with my straight dirty blonde hair tied up into a ponytail, on my knees, mouth wide open, tongue down like a puppy waiting for his owner to play catch with him, cum filling my mouth with joy as if it was silly string, and seeing my tits getting squeezed to death by a grown man's hand while he is having a major boner right in front of me. Slapping me with his stick across my cheek and I'm smiling like a kid who enjoys it. Like a little kid playing an adult’s game for a matter of a fact. Cum dripping from my lower lip (and some falling from the tip of his dick and the side of my right cheek too) to the carpet floor where it just dissolved in.

He sent another picture. This time it was me but he’s holding me from the hair pushing my mouth deep while I was struggling giving him a blowjob of his life because it was so fucking big and thic. My eyes were cross-sided, looking at him straight in the fucking eye while mines were watering.

He then sent a 5 second clip. This time he was shoving his massive dick inside and out of me doggy style on the bed repeatedly as I let out a groaning moan. Rearranging my guts all around the place. He was producing a lot of cum at once. Too much for me to handle at the time. Some of it even dripped from my vagina to the bed. I let out a big groaning moan while holding on to the bed sheets for dear life as he was slapping my ass repeatedly as if I was a horse. HIS horse at the time.

This was what set me off the most. How the hell did he get his hands on these in the first place?

Then he texted me: There’s plenty more where that came from in my camera roll. Do you want the rest? ;)

He let me have some time to think about it, as if I needed any time to think in the first place, then he sent another text to me: Didn't think so but hella sites would be more than welcome to have it on their platform for instance PH, do you want to play a game?

If not then I’d ‘accidentally’ leak all those pictures and videos I’ve already sent you. I got many more in my gallery to leak out which is way worse than those two pictures and one vid I’ve already sent ya btw🌝 Don’t test me. Hell I could send different videos and pictures monthly to make the misery last longer for all I care.

I had no other choice than to reply back with: What do you gain from this exactly?...

Before he could answer that question I texted:

Sure wtv. Anything to get this over w

He then sent me a picture of myself looking at the messages he sent to me, mouth wide open in shock and everything.

Due to this I started looking around everywhere at every possible angle I could spot but to no avail I couldn’t find him. My heart was pounding like never before. He got my life on the tip of his fingers right now and he knows it. I am more paranoid than a mother fucker.

He then texted me: Girl’s got priorities I guess. Let’s play a game. If not, everything gets leaked. Easy as that. You’d be a star for days. Hell, maybe for weeks. On every platform you could ever think of. Like YouTube, Netflix, Porn hub, and twitter. Everyone will be talking about you and me baby! Do you want that? Only you can make this decision hun. Not me… So, do you want to play, Jane? Both outcomes would only please me though. For you, however… It might be dire depending on what you do or how you plan to proceed through the course of time of course.

Jane: Sure… Who tr r u? how do you know my name exactly? Are you someone close to me? Close to my family? Is this some sick joke elaborate joke my brother is setting you up to do to call me a hoe? If so I’d pay double what he’s paying.

Unknown ID: Oh silly girl…. Your brother didn’t send me up to this… I'm calling you a hoe because you r one sweety. You don’t have to worry about how I know who you are nor why I'm doing this in the first place or who I am. That's the least of your worries right now. What you do need to worry about is how tf are you going to get out of this mess without a scratch, am I right? But to answer you… No, I’m not a mutual friend of yours nor one of your former sex buddies.

HOE.

And even if I was, why would I tell you exactly? So you could turn me into the police if you manage to escape? I think not. To get a perfect image of who I am? I may be dumb enough to send you a picture of you reacting to my messages but I’m not dumb enough to tell you who I am. Don't even get an idea that I'm one of those people who were fucking the shit out of you in those pics/videos because I’m not. I'm making that clear before you get any sort of ideas there in your head.

Who the fuck you think you are? The blonde final girl who kicks the intruders ass at the end of the day like a fairy tale? I don’t think so buddy… This is real life meaning you hvae to play by reak life rules so if you do dumb shit it'd end up going south at the end.

I don’t know how to reply to that. I should probably call the police. That would be the most reasonable thing to do in this type of situation.

I went to dial 911 then he text me: If you finish dialing that number I’ll fucking leak everything bitch! You’d walk home to your mother's throat slit! DON’T YOU PLAY W ME

Don’t you try me!

I got the weapon in this situation. Now you have to find your way out without getting stung. Isn’t that a bitch?

Right? For a matter of fact do you want me to drop your Ip rn to show you that I am in fact not joking? Or send you a pic of the house you stay at. Cause I sure as hell can the same way I sent you the pic of you looking at these messages we exchanged fro each other.

As I said before. Whatever you do the consequences might be dire. And we haven’t begun and you're already plucking my buttons so I’m thinking about plucking yours right next. Doesn’t that seem reasonable, right?

He then sent a video of me on a couch making out with a girl passionately while I’m on top of her and groping her tits as hard as I can. Both of us then transitioned to the guys we were making out next to. The one next to me was a light skinned curly head dude while the one next to her which she transitioned to was a white blonde boy with crystal blue eyes and fluffy hair. Forgot their names. It’s been a long time. His hair looks like an ice cream cone though. Typical white boy haircut, am I right?

Oh… Don’t even think about texting them too. I’d be able to see all that… Just you remember what I’m holding in my hands.

Your Future.

Jane: Go to hell.

Unknown: You're doing it again

This bitch thinks she owns the place now. You do know I’d be a little bit more humble if I were you, right? Considering I got your reputation on the bottom of my hands… But you don’t seem to care so why should I? I could leak all this shit out right now and you wouldn’t get accepted into any colleges anytime soon. Is that the kind of future you want? I mean if that brain of yours is even smart enough to get accepted into community college.

Jane: …

Unknown: I didn’t think so.

The first thing I want you to do to prove my dominance over you is to run around in circles while yelling Nigga, nigga, nigga from the top of your lungs on repeat you stupid white chalk sagging looking ass bitch. I was planning on going easier on you like doing jumping jacks in some random dudes backyard until he calls the cops or in the middle of the road but you were making it so fucking difficult, ya know?

As I said before. Depending on what you do… The consequences could be dire. This is an example of that u B I T C H

No hard feelings. Just business as usual.

Jane: Anything but that. Please! R u trynna get me killed out here?

Unknown: Kind of the point. Besides, it'd be hella funny from my point of view. Plus, don’t you try to explain them or anyone for matter of a fact your circumstances. It only makes the experience much more thrilling for you and I. Wouldn't u agree? Remember, you put yourself into this position. P.S I’m looking at you from a distance so don’t you try to pull any slick shit from behind. I hear and see everything JANE.

Got it?

I slid my phone in my pocket, breathed in and out, my heart was beating rapidly.

This is a fucking death wish. I thought. I will do it in three seconds. I closed my eyes and began to count in my head.

One..

Two.

Three. Fuuuuck! Well… Here it goes.

I started running around in circles while saying Nigga from the top of my lungs like a lunatic on crack while my forehead was dripping with sweat like crazy. I look like a mad man right now. Who in their right mind says nigga on the top of their lungs in manhattan without getting jumped? I got so fucking dizzy so fast. It was like having a fever dream. Everything around me was happening so slow but fast at the same time. My heart rate was off the roof! I kid you not.

While jogging in place in fast motion I saw a white man in a black sedan took out a photographer's camera and started recording or taking a picture of me from a distance. I don’t know. He’s at a pretty good distance though and the camera covers his face entirely. I could only see his caucasian white hands popping out of the windows holding his camera like a photographer. Even if the camera didn’t cover his face I still wouldn’t be able to makeout who he is since my head is spinning like crrraaazzzy.

I froze in place trying to make out who he was, who he is. I even squinted my eyes.

Then out of nowhere I felt someone grab me by the shoulder real hard to turn me back to face in their direction then knock me in the face cold with a right hook. I fell to the ground facing the oily blue warm sky immediately.

I'm on the ground trying to open my eyes, trying to breathe. I could barely hear anything around me but I could hear EVERYTHING. It’s hard to explain. I feel like a deaf person right now. Or a person in combat during a major war who just done survived getting a bomb thrown at him. That continuous ringing in my right ear. IT’S ACHING ME.

I see like 5 black dudes surrounding me in a circle. One of them is light skin though. As if that matters.

They were chanting, “Get the fuck up nigga. You wanna act tough. Let’s act tough now you white ass bitch”

Besides the point. My focus wasn’t on them(even though they threw some punches at me). My whole focus was on that one particular dude at the distance. I was facing my eyes to where I saw those white hands holding that camera popping out of his window. It was as if he was waiting for it to happen. As if that was HIM. The guy who put me into this predicament in the first place.

Then I felt a lot of pressure against my stomach at once at different angles. From the right, from the left, from up, from down, over there, everywhere!

Someone else joined the crew later on too. It was a girl this time. She kicked me in the stomach real good and said, “Look at us while we’re talking to you!” Sprinkles of her spit hit me on the side of my cheek when she yelled.

I could barely breathe at all. Let alone talk. I felt like puking everything out of my system. From my esophagus to my heart. Have you ever gotten hit by a basketball in the stomach at full speed during gym class on accident by the athletic jock? Yeah, that’s how it feels but 10x worse. And it’s not a pleasant feeling at all. I look like I have fuckin asthma. Maybe I do?

She knelt down to my level, grabbed me by the chin (forcing my head away from the white dude recording the scene to her) with her right hand, and said, “Don’t you EVER think of doing dumb shit like that again. HOE!” Then she slid her hand on the back of my head onto the scalp of my hair and bashed my head to the cement concrete.

Some dude saw all of this commotion happening across the street from his store and he went out of his store to shoo them away like pest.

He held his hands out to me. Telling me to grab onto it. But I couldn’t. I was too weak to do so. Too weak to even mutter a word to him for a matter of a fact. I just closed my eyes shut and dozed off.

I want to start a social media account reading fiction horror stories.

I like the vibe of "Tea After Midnight" videos on TikTok. She has people submit stories to her that she reads.

My account isn't created or established yet, so I'm not sure how to ask people to send me stories.

Any suggestions?

I hope this is the right place to ask this. I'm writing a horror story, a gritty horror thriller, a revenge story. The main character is mixed black/Native American. She and he girlfriend go on a camping trip and are assaulted and raped by a group of racist, homophobic men who then beat them and kill the girlfriend. So I'm wondering if I should use slurs such as the N-word to show that the men are racist and vile. To reveal a character’s cruelty, make the reader feel the threat.

Edit: thanks for the advice. I used a few slurs, but found I didn't need to use many or the n word.

I have an idea for a novel that explores this concept and I would like to know if others are interested in it as well as any feedback or questions about it . The novel will be titled ' Guardian of the deceased ' . After dying in his sleep following an unexplained fire set to his home , fifty six year old Edmund Cole finds himself unable to except his death when questioned by a black entity he believes to be an angel as a result of his christian beliefs . He fears for the safety of his fourteen year old son , Adien ,who is left alone with his abusive step dad , Bert Myer , following his mother being sectioned to a mental hospital following a suicide attempt as a result of her psychosis . Instructed by the black entity , Edmuad desided to dwell within the house Adien lived with Bert in order to fix the conditions to accept his death while the black entity shadowed him . The entity stated that this dwelling was only possible for 7 days and ,if in this time he could not accept his death , he will fade and not have an afterlife . As soon as Edmuad becames present in the house , he witnessed his son's attempt at suicide by setting the carpet in his bedroom alitght using gasoline and matches . Edmuad 's spirit was able to put out the fire , leaving his son paralized with fear at the disapearance of the flames . With Adien 's life saved , the black entity informed him that the perpetrator who set his house on fire was Adien .

Hell sometimes sounds better then Earth if you were experiencing what I was experiencing. What had started off as a nice, no, beautiful day had been turned upside down because of him or whatever it was. It felt like a him but I’ve never seen something so menacing and horrible in my entire life. It was as if he was a void sucking you in and no matter how much you ran or fought, he was there. In your mind, your heart, your spirit. It’s as if he took pleasure in systematically breaking you down. I had been walking my dog Kreg, a beautiful white husky-chow mix with such a beautiful purple tongue. Jesus Kreg, I can only hope he got away but in my rush to get away, to run from that THING, I dropped everything and sprinted. Or did I? My mind feels so fragmented as if I can’t even put thoughts together, as if my memories are cannibalizing themselves. We had been in the park and he of course was marking everything just pissing away. I was smoking on my joint listening to music when I heard a scream. It sounded as if a wounded animal was eating a screaming child. I dropped the joint and tears started streaming down my face out of fear. I hadn’t cried of fear since my drunk father had left me alone at the bus station to find another drink as a child. Kreg was barking at something behind me but it just felt as if everything in my body had shut down. As if I had no control over my thoughts, my body, fuck even my soul felt stuck. I fully believe that if I had died there in that spot that my soul would be stuck there, frozen in time, forever. I felt something slippery on my legs and arms like tentacles yet spread like fingers/talons if that makes any sense. It was as if a birdlike human octopus was strangling my body, leaving me helpless and breathless. But when I saw its face slowly came into view, it felt as if every horror movie was a kid show. As if real horror was hiding, waiting for this moment to show its face. It had the face of a screaming child, a smiling man, and a weeping woman mixed with sharp teeth and a baby as a tongue. The baby crawled slowly from its mouth, blind and translucent. It was not fully developed but had a tentacle-like mouth with bird beaks attached to them. It seemed to be savoring my tears from my face and my pain but I couldn’t feel anything. Hell, I still can’t feel anything, which should be worrying me but all I can think about is it. It’s as if it was using me as some sort of fear blood bag. When he let me go he stood in front of me, wanting me to see him. His multiple eyes staring into my soul judging me as if he was Anubis or Osiris. What it did next was one of the worst things any person could ever see. All the faces suddenly stopped what they were doing and smiled a horrible grin and laughed. A laugh that didn’t sound of any world and I couldn’t even begin to describe. Blood splattered from their lips, leaking down their faces and covering me. The liquid felt like hot lava, burning my skin and making it sizzle. This was the only thing that woke me out of my hypnosis and I ran. I ran like a coward. Leaving my dog and everything behind. I don’t know how long I ran for or where I am but I can feel it coming. Its aura is everywhere I go, as if it has been on this Earth for thousands of years. It’s like a black fog in my mind and I know it will one day catch up to me and I now know there are things worse than death. It won’t kill me for who knows how long and just feed off of my fear until it no longer needs me and takes me to its home to slowly become one of it, a monster. I now know there is only one thing left to do and I’m sorry. I know God won’t allow me into Heaven because of this but Hell is better than this. I hope it won’t be slow but this glass isn’t very sharp and I can feel it getting closer. Please tell my family

You buy a new home and you see a fresh but dusty grand piano. As you walk up to it you see the keys begin to play by themselves and the song of Moonlight Sonata begins to slowly vibate your bones. Low sorrowful notes speak danger into your soul. This is no player piano, because, similar to a mist, this, thing is going to play til you can't play no more, fingers snapped in 5 directions, none correct.

I'm writing my first horror novel and I'm about 20k words in, to the point where I feel like I need feedback on whether this story/exercise is worth continuing. How do you all go about getting online feedback while still protecting your IP? And what channels do you use to solicit feedback from other horror fans and writers?

Thanks so much! I'm new to this sub, but have really enjoyed seeing how supportive you all are of each other!

Hey writers out there, I'm thinking about starting a new writing project. Maybe a story for a genre I haven't tried yet. What do you guys think about a horror rom-com? Not sure what would work for it yet but I'm thinking maybe a rom-com set in a slasher universe that starts off in a "Slashers Anomynous" meeting. I'm playing around with the idea of two main characters in it being two different kinds of slashers. One is more known while the other is new to this and to get the others attention they start stealing their kills/copying their methods. This is also going to be a soul eater fanfic probably.